2016: it was a very bad year. Brexit and Trump. Terrorism and global warming. The Zika virus and James Corden’s Christmas song. And all those celebrity deaths! Bowie, Prince, Ali, Arnold Palmer, George Martin, Harper Lee, Victoria Wood, Garry Shandling, Leonard Cohen, the guy who played the solo on Hound Dog, the woman who belted out La Marseillaise in Casablanca, two-thirds of Emerson, Lake and Palmer, and of course dear old Rob Rensenbrink. But chin up! The year hasn’t been a total write-off. There’s been plenty to celebrate in 2016, too. So for the umpteenth year running – we’re too jaded to count – it’s time for The Fiver’s famous Xmas Awards! Hooray! Yay! Hic!
THE ALL-ROUND-TO-VARDY’S AWARD FOR MOST HEART-WARMING CELEBRATION
For their first appearance at a major tournament in 58 years, Wales were fuelled by a can-do attitude and a stag-do team spirit. Chris Coleman’s tactical instructions were simple but deadly: defend like proud warriors of Pulisland, make the most of set pieces and, when in doubt, just give the ball to one of the best players in the world, Hal Robson-Kanu. That approach took Wales all the way to the semi-finals. Yet their time at Euro 2016 will be most fondly remembered for the way they celebrated England’s defeat by Iceland, as heart-warming footage of players hugging and high-fiving each other proved that amid all the hype and money, modern football still has a place for the simple time-honoured pleasure of vicious schadenfreude. Wales achieved a lot at Euro 2016, but making England’s elimination even funnier was their most unlikely feat of all. “We’ve enjoyed Iceland all the way through, they’ve been unbelievable,” explained Neil Taylor afterwards, with an impressively straight face. His sentiments regarding England won’t have been totally dissimilar.
THE MINISTRY OF FUNNY WALKS AWARD FOR SET-PIECE PROWESS
The problem with William McCrum’s penalty invention is that because it was so simple, it left little room for embellishment. In the 126 years since the Irishman lobbied for the introduction of spot-kicks, there has been precious little innovation in the genre, apart from an Antonin Panenka chip here and a Thierry Henry/Robert Pires slapstick routine there. So what a welcome treat Italy served up in the Euro 2016 quarter-final shootout against Germany! First, Graziano Pellè tried to distract the world’s best goalkeeper, Manuel Neuer, by miming a dink before delicately side-footing the ball five yards wide. Then Simone Zaza brought the house down by mimicking a man perambulating down a walkway constructed of hot coals, broken glass and bricks of Lego, before blazing the ball way over the bar. It was so good that West Ham simply had to add him to their troupe of comedy summer recruits.
THE SEBASTIAN DANGERFIELD AWARD FOR LOOKING AFTER NO1
During Euro 2016, renowned culture vulture and JP Donleavy fan Mr Roy opted to take a leaf from the book of The Ginger Man’s t1tular hero, swanning off on a boat trip up the Seine instead of scoping out possible second-round opponents Iceland, and we all know how well that decision turned out. The boat trip would have been really grand, to be fair: Mr Roy presumably saw the Eiffel Tower and the cathedral of Notre Dame, heard someone play an accordion … hell, who knows, maybe he even got to enjoy a tasty croque-monsieur and wash it down with a nice fizzy Perrier. A lovely day out, all told. He deserved it. It was great. The Iceland game wasn’t quite so much fun. To be fair, he had the good grace to resign after that risible shambles, albeit mainly in the hope of bodyswerving the postmortems. However, the FA insisted on his facing up to the fans who pay his significant salary by having the good grace to attend one final press conference. Which he did, sitting through the entire thing with a gob on. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he either admitted or harrumphed, depending on how you parse that sentence. Despite it all, Roy avoided a populist backlash, mainly, we suspect, because few were prepared to admit that Liverpool supporters might have been on to something all along.
THE STEVEN BRADBURY COMMEMORATIVE GOLD MEDAL FOR EMPHATIC TRIUMPHS
Leicester City. With Chelsea’s players having locked themselves in their bedrooms as they penned angry diary entries and played loud devil music, Manchester United nodding off as Louis van Gaal gave philosophy lectures, Manchester City goofing off after Manuel Pellegrini was outed as a suede-elbow-patched substitute teacher, Liverpool players still getting used to training on Jürgen Klopp’s industrial hamster wheels, Arsenal being Arsenal and Spurs being Spurs, someone had to win the Premier League. So step forward Leicester City, who finished 10 points clear of everyone else thanks to Claudio Ranieri’s novelty press conferences, Robert Huth’s old-school hoof, Riyad Mahrez’s gee and Jamie Vardy’s whizz. Leicester’s coronation as champions prompted much debate as to whether their win was more sensational than Nottingham Forest’s or Ipswich Town’s back in the day, but Ranieri’s men are all set to settle that argument by getting relegated as champs in a Manchester City style. Hopefully then winning Big Cup a few days later. Imagine the narrative purity.
THE CHILE-ITALY AWARD FOR THROWING HANDS
Tottenham Hotspur are the proud winners of this bent and dented trophy, for their gargantuan collective loss of noggin in giving up a two-goal lead at Stamford Bridge and presenting the Premier League title to Leicester City on a scratched and twisted silver platter. Losing with dignity is a highly overrated concept, so Spurs went down kicking, barging and hacking in a valedictory display which proved conclusively that, if nothing else, they really do care. Their bid for a first championship since 1961 ended in spectacular farce: a big cartoon cloud of dust, with fists, boots and Mauricio Pochettino’s scowling head sticking out of it, tumbled noisily down a tunnel and out of sight. Like the final frame of Butch Cassidy, the exact details of how that panned out were left unreported, though there’s a fair chance it wasn’t too pretty. Marvellous old-school entertainment. More, please, football!
THE ADIDAS ‘COLUMBIA’ CAMPAIGN AWARD FOR KNOWING ONE’S TARGET DEMOGRAPHIC
Karren Brady CBE. Her West Ham United made a strong challenge for the title in 2016, that title being Britain’s Biggest Beneficiaries of Social Housing Outside the Windsor Family. But handling a stadium move is not the same as peddling fruity self-help aids, and the club’s bongo-tastic owners inevitably encountered hitches as they made their way from the Boleyn Ground to the People’s Park. There were safety plans to get wrong, an atmosphere to neuter, and a high-flying team to drag down. Most of all, there was a loyal fanbase to antagonise. “We saw [the move] as a real opportunity to change the brand values of the club,” Brady told a flute of businessmen at a conference in October, before suggesting that the club of Bobby Moore, Geoff Hurst, the Academy of Football, Julian D1cks, Marco Boogers, Forever Blowing Bubbles, Russell Brand, Danny Dyer and Ray ‘Put All Your Wages On A Goal In The 13th Minute’ Winstone lacked culture. She later took to Social Media Disgrace Twitter to clarify what she meant, because Social Media Disgrace Twitter is the perfect medium for efficiently nipping controversy in the bud, isn’t it. There’s yet another thing that wasn’t totally thought through.
THE PETER MARINELLO AWARD FOR REALISING ONE’S POTENTIAL
The Dominic Matteo de nos jours, John Stones. Hoof it into Row Z, will you. Progressive philosophies are all well and good, but you won’t have to theatrically hold your head in your hands every 10 seconds if you hoof it into Row Z.
THE LOUIS VAN GAAL MEMORIAL AWARD FOR MANCHESTER-BASED MANAGERS RESPONDING TO BLOODY DAFT QUESTIONS WITH INDUSTRIAL LEVELS OF DISDAIN
A very tough category, this, what with José Mourinho in town. But right now, José’s tryin’ real hard to be a shepherd. And his studied good behaviour has left the door wide open for Pep Guardiola, who has bolted right on through. Whether winning or losing, Guardiola responds to every inane interrogation with either a deflated sigh, a fuming pause, or a genuinely exasperated “ahferfugssake”. Sometimes all three. He really, really, really cannot be bothered with the preposterous dance of the modern press conference, and he certainly isn’t going to churn out the platitudes just to keep the press pack happy. They’ll get him for this in the end, of course, but for now, it’s wonderful to watch. Heroic.
THE PEP GUARDIOLA AWARD FOR UNDERSTATED ELEGANCE
José Mourinho. You’d think Pep would pick up this gong, wouldn’t you, for the crisp, clean lines of his slim-cut suit, the ease at which he pulls off a statement scarf, or the effortless chic of his sports jacket and sweater combo. But José has been photographed shuffling around the foyer of his hotel wearing a pair of creased tracky pants, in the manner of someone about to be escorted off the premises and invited to finish his al fresco drinking session and half-eaten kebab out of sight elsewhere. That’s more The Fiver’s kind of people.
THE ROBBIE SAVAGE AWARD FOR FORCED ICONOCLASM
Pick a modern pundit. Any one. We’re not fussy. See, the whole critic-artist dynamic has been totally shattered by Social Media Disgrace Twitter. Time was, the pundit would say their piece, whereupon the subject of their ire, be it player or manager, would tell them to eff off, and that would be that. Everyone had their say, and the world would move on. But these days, whenever pundits are questioned over their foghorn opinions, they instantly jump on social media in an attempt to get the final say. Happy to dish it out, not so happy to have anything coming back the other way. They’re more touchy than Donald Trump. For example, The Fiver has little doubt that Jamie Carragher and the two Nevilles are righteously correct in their analysis of Loris Karius, their opinions no doubt informed by careful study of his 91 appearances in the Bundesliga, because there’s no way any reasonable person would completely write off a 23-year-old after watching clips from a few matches with their feet up on the desk in a television studio. That’s all fair enough. However the way they’ve since come back at him, all guns blazing, for having the temerity to stick up for himself, is perhaps prolonging the debate a step too far. This habit of pundits writing themselves into every story is getting old. Even Jimmy Hill and Malcolm Allison knew when to get off the stage. Well, most of the time.
A KEVIN MUSCAT-SIGNED COPY OF THE DA VINCI CODE IN RECOGNITION OF EXCEPTIONAL CONTRIBUTIONS TO SUBTLE SYMBOLISM
Sam Allardyce. It seemed, fleetingly, that the FA had got over itself. Or maybe it was just that in the post-Euro 2016 wasteland they could no longer dodge Big Sam. Yes, that was it, because at the first whiff of a minor breach of decorum, they panicked and got shot of Allardyce and drafted in Gareth Southgate instead. Southgate arrived with a nice manner and lots of fine talk about England’s DNA, but there’s no shaking a sense of an opportunity missed. At least Allardyce, a patriot till the end, bequeathed an emblem that should guide England in the years ahead, a symbol of the unashamed blend of grit and commitment that English football should be all about: that pint glass of wine, which should be embroidered on every England jersey.
A DAVID CAMERON-ENDORSED ASTON VILLA FAN RATTLE FOR OUTSTANDINGLY SINCERE GESTURES
Following Sunderland’s 1-0 defeat at West Ham in October, the Black Cats’ striker Victor Anichebe almost spared a thought for the fans who’d made the long journey from the north-east to the south coast, tweeting: “Can you tweet something like ‘Unbelievable support yesterday and great effort by the lads! Hard result to take! But we go again.’” He would have made 29 fewer keystrokes had he just done it himself in the first place. At least he’s making his Mr 15% earn his cut.
THE EL HADJI DIOUF AWARD FOR TALKING THROUGH ONE’S HOOP TO GET ATTENTION
Joey Barton.
THE JOEY BARTON AWARD FOR TALKING THROUGH ONE’S HOOP TO DEFLECT ATTENTION
Joey Barton. The former Burnley midfielder was happy to let everyone know that the Pope’s Newc O’Rangers had pulled off a major coup by signing him. “I’m coming up here to be the best player in the country,” he bugled, and The Fiver’s not about to mock a man for being self-confident. Instead The Fiver will mock him for falling so far short of the standards he set himself that it could only have been funnier if he’d gone to games with a cuddly lion mascot under his arm. September’s Old Firm derby was a particularly choice skit. Barton had previewed it by declaring that Scott Brown “is not in my league” but could not get close to the Queen’s Celtic’s captain during the inevitable 5-1 thrashing. Apart from the moment Brown whispered something to him when the score was 2-0, that is. “I was just making sure he was all right,” deadpanned Brown afterwards. Being outwitted by Scott Brown was a development Barton could not tolerate, so he lashed out at team-mates for not caring as much as him, or something. O’Rangers felt his input lacked constructiveness so suspended him and told him to say sorry. Then Barton was accused of breaking football’s betting rules. Then Barton signed off with stress. Then Barton and O’Rangers agreed the joke was getting old so they called it a day. But he still had time to deliver the punchline, explaining as he shuffled back south that the problem all along was with the Scottish media: “They built me up like I was Messi or Neymar.” And to be fair, even Brown would find it difficult to live up to that.
THE GEORGE W BUSH AWARD FOR MISSION ACCOMPLISHMENT
Fifa, which abolished its anti-racism taskforce in September on the grounds that meetings had been held, hands had been shaken and everything was hunky dory – especially as the next World Cup is in Russia. “My only hope is that Fifa have thought this through,” ventured Yaya Touré, more in hope than expectation one strongly suspects.
PLAYER OF THE YEAR
Marouane Fellaini. Poor guy just wants to be loved, like the rest of us. We’d give him a cuddle, but he’s not here, so this is the best we can do. C’mon, it’s Christmas.
RUNNER-UP
Eden Hazard, for bouncing back so bravely after a painful season-long battle with existential ennui.
TEAM OF THE YEAR
Aston Villa, whose sequence of 11 straight losses was quite an achievement, and the worst in the Premier League since Sunderland lost 15 on the spin in 2003. The Black Cats at least had the good grace not to lose any of theirs 6-0 at home.
BUMPER ONE-OFF FESTIVE TV & RADIO SPECIAL: ALL THE HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR PERIOD
Right, aye. You are joking, aren’t you?
MAIL! MAIL! MAIL!
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